


She Stole My Heart (and most of my valuables)

by Darthkvzn



Series: There Was Once An Avenger From Krypton [1]
Category: Gravity Falls, Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Weirdmageddon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26247310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darthkvzn/pseuds/Darthkvzn
Summary: A couple weeks into her adventures in the Boiling Isles, Luz gets invited back to Earth by Eda, in order to help with a "special" haul of human junk. Though still a bit reticent about going back to the human world, Luz agrees to go, as Eda seems convinced that she'll enjoy this particular visit.Imagine her surprise when the portal delivers them to Gravity Falls - a place that just might challenge the Isles' claim to being the strangest place Luz has ever been to...
Relationships: Eda Clawthorne/Stan Pines (past), Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez/Melody
Series: There Was Once An Avenger From Krypton [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1316201
Comments: 70
Kudos: 189





	1. Old Flames and Oddly Named Towns

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I hope you enjoy this crossover - kind of a plot bunny, but I figure I can afford it, since I'm about done with a couple projects in the universe. I'm aiming for this to be about 3-5 chapters, but don't quote me on that. I've been known to go painfully, hilariously overboard.
> 
> Speaking of which, you might notice this work is part of the "There Was Once an Avenger from Krypton" series! This fic is meant as a standalone, but I love both cartoons it's based on, and I'll be using elements from both later on in the series. If the larger crossover universe isn't for you, no worries!
> 
> If you do care about the larger continuity, this is chronologically the first fic in the series, taking place in summer 2011. Luz is 14, as in canon, and the twins are about to be that age, too. Weirdmaggedon took place the year prior. Hit me up with any other questions!

“Eda, do I _really_ have to go?” –Luz asks, pursing her lips as the suitcase assembles itself into the portal to Earth.

The Owl Lady raises an eyebrow. “Why the hesitation, kid? It’s just the human world – no boiling rain, no demons waiting to snack on your innermost fears, no need to constantly evade so-called criminal justice...I thought you’d appreciate the break.” –she muses.

“Y’know, you get used to having your life threatened every other day _surprisingly_ quickly.” –Luz notes, then wrings her hands. “I just...I’m not _super_ ready to talk to _mami_ right now. Or for a _while,_ really.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Not that I’m... _overly familiar_ with the geography of your homeworld, but I’m pretty sure we’re not going anywhere _near_ the elder Noceda.” –she shrugs. “Place is called Aura-Gone, I think.”

Luz snickers. “I think you mean _Oregon._ ” –she says. “Why go there?”

Eda rolls her eyes, good-naturedly. “Your boundless curiosity never ceases to flicker between _adorable_ and _annoying._ ” –she remarks. “I met a fun human a few of your ‘decades’ ago – not too bright, similarly annoyed with petty concepts like _law_ and _order,_ and not _particularly_ inclined to ask too many questions. We briefly dated, got married overnight...and then I swindled him out of all the _shiny things_ he owned – and trust me, the man _liked_ his _bling._ Only when I returned to the Boiling Isles did I realize he’d stolen my staff, in turn.” –she reminisces, amused.

“Sounds romantic. _And_ illegal.” –Luz smirks.

“Man after my own heart, really.” –she agrees. “Anyhoo, I went back, gave him a few of his trinkets back, and he returned the staff. Been friends – and, more importantly, _business partners_ – ever since. I bring him some harmless demonic junk, he trades me some human junk back. Don’t know what he does with it – don’t particularly _care,_ either.”

Luz crosses her arms. “And you...want me to meet this guy?”

Eda shrugs. “That’s _entirely_ up to you, kid. No, I figure that, _noodle arms_ or not, you could help bring in the haul – and, not to give Stan _too_ much credit, but he usually _delivers._ ” –she says.

Luz scratches at her cheek. Eda would never hold it against her if she refused, of course, but...well, it _has_ been a while since she was last on Earth. She may not be ready to confront her mother, but this little escapade could serve as... _baby steps-ing_ it.

“I’d ask King, but...” –Eda says, then pantomimes the tiny demon’s small size and stubby little arms and legs.

The human shakes her head, disapproving even as she holds back a chuckle. “Yeah, alright, I’ll come with.” –she says, hoping she hasn’t just made a _big_ mistake.

* * *

True to Eda’s word – and surreptitiously double-checked via her phone’s GPS app, not that Eda understands what a cellphone is – the pair arrives at a remote location in central Oregon. It’s a fairly thickly wooded area, just outside of town, according to the map.

Luz blinks in disbelief, seeing the town’s name. “ _Gravity Falls?_ ”

“Not for a Witch.” –Eda says, cheekily. Luz groans at the joke, but can’t help a small smile.

Much like with the portal that delivered her into the Boiling Isles in the first place, this exit also appears in an abandoned house. “Does the portal _always_ open in creepy, broken down homes?” –Luz asks, as the blinding light fades into a normal doorway.

Eda shrugs, stuffing the shape-shifting key into her hair. “What can I say? The door likes what it likes. Half the time, it spits me out in places I’ve never been before.” –she says, though she doesn’t seem particularly bothered by this. “It _does_ like this place, though. Never goes rogue on me when I want to visit the old man.”

The older woman pulls out an old, red and white polka-dotted handkerchief, and ties it around her head in order to hide her pointed ears. She then dons a pair of thick-framed sunglasses that look straight out of the 50s. “You look like someone conveniently leaving town just before her husband is found dead.” –Luz says, smirking.

“Cute, but I’m not much for subterfuge, kid. If I murdered someone, people would _know._ ” –she says, her curse-borne fang glinting through her smirk. Luz isn’t _super_ sure if she’s kidding or not.

Eda leads the way, carving a winding path through the woods. There’s something... _unnerving_ about this forest; it feels like she’s in one of those typical, ‘lost in the forest’ scenes in cartoons, being stared at by a ridiculously high amount of glowing red eyes. There’s no one around, that she can tell, but the forest itself seems to regard her with some hostility.

Still, some weirdly passive aggressive vibes are easier to deal with than _actual_ flesh-eating trees and feral demons, so she shrugs it off.

It only takes about five minutes to reach the edge of town; Gravity Falls is not a very big place, but as far as middle-of-nowhere locales go, she figures it’s nice enough. From their vantage point, she spots a huge water tower – oddly graffiti’d with a really huge _muffin,_ of all things – a small town square, a dinky little mall, some fairgrounds, and, closest to them, a small diner, classic _Americana._ Luz’s mouth waters at the mere thought of ancient, coffee-stained mugs and days-old apple pie; she’ll always prefer her mother’s _tostones,_ but diner food is pretty universal.

And really, it’s just _human_ food she’s missing.

“Are we going into town?” –Luz innocently asks.

Eda snorts. “The company I keep isn’t _usually_ in the business of _integrating into society._ My ex-husband is no exception.” –she says, sardonically. “No, Stan’s old shack is just through here.”

Luz whimpers in _food grief_ as Eda leads them both to a nearby clearing, where the aforementioned shack is – the _Mystery Shack,_ to be precise. Luz’s excitement grows exponentially; there’s only one thing the Mystery Shack can be: a _tourist trap,_ and a _spooky_ one at that. There’s a small parking space nearby, and _loads_ of cheesy, wooden warning signs, with blood-red painted messages like ‘ _Beware the Hide Behind!_ ’, ‘ _Don’t fall into the Bottomless Pit!_ ’, and ‘ _Ignore the gnomes’ marriage proposals!_ ’.

It’s almost...tailor-made for her tastes.

The Owl Lady smirks at the fledgling witch’s gob-smacked expression. “Had a feeling you’d be into this place.” –she remarks. “Wait until you see the _exhibits._ ”

She almost hurts her throat gasping. “ _Oh por_ dios _,_ what are we waiting for!?”

Eda shakes her head. “Go nuts, kid. Look for the old man with the silly little red hat.”

Luz barely lets her finish before she’s sprinting off into the Shack.


	2. Summer Jobs for the Supernaturally Inclined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mystery Shack is a fascinating mix of obviously fake paraphernalia and very much real - though defunct - magical doodads and thingamajigs from the Boiling Isles, which ticks pretty much all of Luz's boxes. The staff's pretty friendly, too - maybe a little *too* friendly, in a certain glittery twin's case.
> 
> Unfortunately for all involved, Stan Pines may or may not be in a spot of supernatural trouble...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! I'm overjoyed at the reception this story's gotten - which would've normally gotten you a chapter a lot quicker, but it's been a tough few weeks in the noggin' department for me, so please bear with me. Again, I'm going for something in the neighborhood of 5-7 chapters with this story, so I hope you enjoy it going forward!

Luz _does_ find a man with a silly little red hat, but it’d be kinda... _rude,_ to call him old.

Before that, though, the Mystery Shack beckons; there’s a pretty respectable number of people milling about the main entrance, talking amongst themselves and taking pictures of the Shack – which is really more of a _cabin,_ but still. Luz practically _races_ inside, her smile widening into a massive grin as she takes in the sights, including but not limited to: the _whole-ass_ stuffed pterosaur next to the (formerly) sunken treasure chest, the classic, taxidermied jackalope, a crystal ball (real but broken, from the looks of it), a small family of stuffed dodo birds, and a so-called mermaid that honestly more resembles an alien from those fake autopsy videos in the process of being devoured by a fish.

It’s the _second_ best day in her life.

“Oh, hey there!” –a teen roughly the same age as her says, approaching. He’s lanky, kinda like her, and a little shorter than she is. He’s rocking the bare beginnings of a _very_ awkward mustache and goatee combo, as well as a blue vest, orange shirt, gray cargo shorts, and black Chucks. A thick lumberjack hat sits atop his head, oddly adorned with a round pin with a simplified pine tree design in the middle. “First time in the Shack?”

Luz nods. “Yeah! This place is _amazing,_ I can’t believe I’ve never heard of it!”

He laughs, nervously. “Yeah, well...it’s a _bit_ out of the way.” –he says. “If you have any questions, let me know.”

Luz tilts her head. “You work here?”

The guy nods. “Every summer!” –he says, then winces, rubbing the back of his head. “...which...only comes out to _two_ summers, now that I think about it...” –he mutters, mostly to himself. He rubs his palms on his shorts, probably subconsciously. “Anyway, _yeah,_ I work here! The name’s Dipper. Dipper Pines.”

“I’m Luz.” –she says, amused. The guy’s very _clearly_ anxious, but he’s _trying,_ and she appreciates that. She’s no stranger to awkward situations – though historically, hers tend to end with more _screaming_ and _runaway critters_ than sweaty hands and minor motor-mouth episodes. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before.”

Dipper rubs the back of his head. “It’s more of a _nickname,_ really.” –he says, somewhat chagrined. He lifts his overly long, curly bangs to show her a very _particularly_ shaped birthmark – seven dots linked by faint lines in the _exact_ shape of the Big Dipper.

“Hot _damn,_ that’s...what are the odds, even?” –Luz shakes her head in disbelief.

Dipper smirks. “ _Astronomically_ low.”

Luz can’t help a small snort. “ _Smooth._ Do you live here?”

“I _wish._ ” –he shrugs. “No, California. Piedmont, pretty close to San Francisco. Our great uncles live here, though, and we had a _really cool_ _summer_ vacation here last year, so we come as often as we can. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Spring Break...y’know, the usual.”

“’Great uncles’, huh? Married?”

Dipper snorts. “ _No,_ twins. Though I _think_ Great Uncle Ford had a boyfriend once...” –he mutters to himself, _way_ louder than he probably intended. “A-anyway, they technically live in the Shack, but they spend most of the year abroad. They’re kind of... _cryptid-hunting adventurers,_ I guess.” –he says, half expecting her to cringe at this.

Luz, of course, can only gasp in delight. “ _Wow._ That’s a _thing!?_ That’s so cool!”

Dipper’s eyebrow rises. “You really think so? Most people kinda... _bounce_ when the weird stuff comes up.”

“ _Dude,_ weird stuff is _everything_ for me.” –Luz says. She considers revealing she’s a Witch in training, but he _is_ kind of a random stranger. “Magic, monsters, even like, _demon_ stuff. It’s _way_ more fun and interesting than...I dunno, _boy bands_ and _fashion,_ I guess.”

He chuckles. “Don’t let Mabel hear you say that.”

“Who?”

“ _Me!_ ” –a female voice startles her, coming from behind. Luz turns to find a teen, also roughly the same age as her, with the _widest grin_ she’s ever seen – wider than her own when she found out magic really existed, in fact. Her brown hair is somewhere between shaggy and curly, going all the way down to her lower back, and – much like every other visible part of her body – it’s _covered_ in multi-colored glitter. She wears an oversized grey sweater that barely lets her pink skirt poke out beneath, ballet flats, and stockings with _Hello Kitty_ designs all over. “Hello, hopefully romantically available stranger!” –she says, cheerfully, her thick braces slurring her speech a little. “Isn’t my bro-bro here _such_ a catch?”

Dipper groans, blushing deeply. “Luz, Mabel. Mabel – _why the heck would you say that –_ Luz.” –he mutters.

Luz chuckles awkwardly. “Hey! Also, _sorry._ Definitely _not_ on the market, right now.” –she says, apologetic.

“Aw, bummer.” –she says, then puts on a saucy grin. “Well, how about _moi?_ ”

“ _Mabel,_ you have a _girlfriend!_ ” –Dipper chides.

Mabel waves him off. “Long distance, Dipper. _Long_ distance.”

“Sorry, either way.” –Luz winces. “You guys are cute, but I’m only here for a couple hours, at most – not exactly looking to _date_ anyone here. In fact, I’m...actually supposed to be looking for an old man with a red hat, here. You guys know who that might be?”

Dipper blinks, then leans on his sister. “Isn’t Soos like, _twenty?_ ” –he mutters, again, very loudly.

“Twenty-one, dudes, ha-ha.” –a heavy-set young man says, approaching. He wears an eyepatch over his left eye, a fancy two piece suit, and brown leather shoes. He has a fairly wispy beard, and the red fez hat Eda advised she look for sits atop his head, adorned with a design that looks like a fish version of Pac-Man. “Though I _have_ been told I look anywhere from sixteen to fourty-six.”

Luz tilts her head. “I take it you’re not Stan, then.” –she tries, though context clues have all but given her the answer.

“ _I would be the happiest man on Earth._ ” –he whispers, all too serious, then laughs awkwardly. “But no, I’m just Soos. I own the Shack!” –he says, cheerfully.

“It’s an awesome place, I wish I could stay.” –she admits. “But I really should be looking for Stan. Do you have any idea where I can find him?”

“That depends...are you with the IRS?” –Soos asks, half-joking.

“I’m _fourteen,_ so, _no._ ” –she says.

“Well you never know. Mr. Pines says the _tax people_ start younger every year.” –he shrugs. “Why’re you looking for him, then?”

Luz hums. “Well, long story, but my... _aunt_ came to visit him. They’re...business partners, I guess? Used to be married, too.”

She might as well have given them the secret to eternal life – which, from what she’s gathered in the Boiling Isles, _really_ just comes down to stealing other people’s souls – from their reaction; Dipper seems to pale, Mabel’s grin grows to near-Glasgow levels, and Soos lips form a perfect ‘O’ shape, his eyes widening in disbelief.

The trio is about to burst with questions, when an elderly man busts into the scene, holding what appears to be a futuristic laser gun of some kind. “Pines family, we’ve got a bit of a problem!” –he says, uncaring of the patrons giving him weird looks. He looks the part of an adventurer, to be sure, complete with the many-pocketed trench coat, combat boots, and bandolier. “Stanley’s gone and angered a Goblin horde!”

The trio don’t waste a word – in fact, there’s something of a practiced smoothness to their reaction, like they’re very much used to facing mythological creatures on the regular.

Of course, Luz is no stranger to these things, by now. Before she knows it, she follows them out of the Shack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on Ko-fi, as Darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a buck to spare.
> 
> Until next time!


	3. The One in Which Too Many Goblins Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pines family turns out to be surprisingly proficient at goblin-slaying. 
> 
> Unfortunately, killing the small clan draws the attention of the larger horde - ruled by a Gremloblin, no less - so it's up to the Owl Lady herself to save the puny mortals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might end up slightly longer than I intended (hoping for 7 chapter max, fingers crossed I don't go too overboard), but it's really fun to write, so I'm not complaining much!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The elderly adventurer – named Ford, Luz assumes, from Dipper’s muttering – leads the gang outside and towards the woods, northeast of the cabin she and Eda came through. He doesn’t question Luz joining the group _at all_ – barely even spares a glance for her, in fact, which is both bizarre and hilarious, considering she’s a complete stranger they _probably_ won’t ever see again after this – and indeed, nobody comments on her tagging along. Luz gets it, though; the Pines family has this... _vibe_ about them, the kind that drew her to the Boiling Isles in the first place, and subsequently to Eda, King, Willow, Gus, and even _Amity,_ of late. They feel like the kind of people who’re up for _anything,_ no matter how dangerous, ill-advised, or legally dubious.

Basically, they’re _her_ kind of people. Up until she found her way to the Isles, there’d been precious few of those in her life. Hard to believe how fast they’re piling up, honestly, but she figures weirdos attract weirdos after all.

At any rate, their sprint through the woods leads them to a sizeable clearing, which has turned into something of a battlefield. Luz can’t help but be as impressed as she is _grossed out,_ taking in the carnage – the mangled remains of abnormally long-limbed, roughly raccoon-sized furry creatures lying in small pools of their own bright green _internal goo,_ leading up to a _surprisingly_ strong-looking older man, nearly identical to the _other_ senior citizen in the trench coat, wearing a torn up blazer, white t-shirt (stained in the emerald blood of his enemies), and jeans. He’s panting heavily, backed against a rocky outcropping, but his fists – equipped with bronze knuckles, and _damn it,_ she kinda wants a pair now – are defiantly held forward, ready to _wreck_ any of the two dozen or so remaining goblins.

Pretty _badass,_ for a (seemingly) regular old human. Emphasis on _old_ – Dipper’s twin great uncles look like they must be in their late fifties or early sixties, which is definitely a more... _advanced_ age than she’s used to thinking of adventurers as being.

Luz’s hand instinctively reaches for a glyph card – not that her _one Light spell_ would be good for much more than a distraction – but her pockets, phone not-withstanding, come up empty. She curses her own lack of foresight, and grabs a gnarled stick to at least try and carve the glyph into the dirt, or something to that effect...but apparently, she doesn’t need to.

The Pines family bellows a war cry, and gets to work. It’s something to behold, honestly – like watching a real-life version of a cartoon dust cloud with fists, feet, laser guns and, bizarrely, _grappling hooks_ periodically sticking out. They’re no _commandos,_ or anything like that, but it’s immediately clear that they know how to fight, and they know how to fight _together._ Luz herself is no slouch, batting away the hideous little goblins that manage to get in range of her mighty branch, hissing and clucking in some unknown tongue. She’s not a fan of _killing_ them, but they don’t really leave them any choice, recklessly aggressive as they are.

They’re like, _evil lemmings._

At any rate, the goblins are dealt with quickly enough. Everyone’s sweaty and covered in magical goo, but aside from a few scratches and torn clothes, no one is injured. “Aw, dang it...I didn’t even get to shoot my grappling hook.” –Mabel says, disappointed.

“We should be grateful that this was only a small clan.” –Ford chides. “A _true_ goblin horde would’ve proven too dangerous, even for us.”

Stanley rolls his eyes. “Let the kid sulk in peace, Poindexter. It’s a sad day when your grappling hook goes unfired.”

Ford looks like he’s ready to argue, but Dipper quickly steers the conversation somewhere else. “Why did the goblins attack you, Grunkle Stan? They don’t normally come this close to town.”

“Beats me. We were fixing one of Ford’s old bunker entrances when they jumped us.” –he shrugs.

Ford hums, pulling out some kind of Geiger counter-looking handheld machine. It doesn’t click like a Geiger counter, though, instead sounding more like a morose kazoo as he waves it around. “Hmm. According to this readout, there is currently a higher than average concentration of zeta-irradiated particles in the air, consistent with a recent interdimensional portal event.”

Stanley gets _real_ serious, _real_ fast. “What, like your portal?”

“Seeing as it was decommissioned, I find it highly unlikely.” –Ford retorts, annoyed, then purses his lips. “Then again, the mere fact that the portal has been repeatedly opened in the same location _could’ve,_ theoretically, left a nigh-undetectably small breach certain extradimensional entities could... _widen,_ given the chance.”

Luz means to chime in, she really does, but she doesn’t get much of a chance to. “You don’t mean...” –Dipper balks, seemingly haunted.

“No, no.” –Ford reassures him. “While _technically_ immortal, Bill’s essence was shattered in such a way that there is no real chance of him returning in any form we – or he, for that matter – would recognize. This must be something else.”

Stanley groans. “With _our_ luck? Something _worse,_ I bet.”

“Bill was the _worst._ What could be worse than the worst?” –Mabel asks.

Ford winces. “I hate to say it, Mabel, but there are all _manner_ of worse entities than _Bill Cipher_ out there, in the multiverse. Luckily, most of them are quite _aloof_ about us lowly mortals, but it’s not out of the question that our conflict with the dream demon could’ve drawn the attention of some _other_ cosmic foe.”

Luz shakes her head. “ _Guys!_ I think the portal was me.” –she says. Then, all eyes on her, she rubs the back of her head. “Well, not _me,_ me. I’m barely an apprentice. And I don’t even know that other Witches can make portals to Earth...?” –she awkwardly trails off. “ _Anyway_ , Eda made the portal, and we both came through like, half an hour ago.” –she explains.

Everyone stares at her, confused. Ford walks toward her, narrowing his eyes and rubbing his chin. “Your ears are _round,_ young Witch.” –he notes, raising an eyebrow.

Luz snorts. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” –she says. “I’m human, like you guys.”

“And yet you come from the realm of Witches?” –he asks, incredulous.

“I come from New Jersey.” –she says, deadpan. “But yeah, I’m... _summer camping_ in the Boiling Isles.”

The family looks at each other, equal parts surprised and delighted, but the inevitable questioning has to wait – a beastly roar, much too close for comfort, echoes through the supernatural forest, accompanied by more of the chittering Luz now knows to expect from the goblins. It only takes a moment for their new foes to arrive.

Luz now gets what Ford meant, about the goblin horde; they’re surrounded, on all sides, by _hundreds_ of the vicious little critters, all of them various shades of green and brown. But it’s not the horde Luz is most worried about, now – it’s the monster that leads them, a ten foot tall, muscle-bound abomination of leathery hide, moss-like fur, pointed, bat-like ears, glowing red eyes, and massive, tusk-like fangs protruding from its lower jaw.

“A-a Gremloblin! Leading a Goblin horde, no less!” –Ford says, _way_ too excited for the situation they’re in. “Why, I always assumed, but to have visual confirmation...!”

“ _Ugh._ Save it for _after_ we don’t become _goblin chum,_ will you?” –Stanley pinches his sizeable red nose. “Kids, get _Lanky McWitch-Gibberish_ back to the Shack, I don’t need _another_ insurance claim on my list of things to flee to Mexico from.”

Luz narrows her eyes. “ _Bold_ of you to assume I can afford health insurance, _güelito._ ”

“You’re too cool to be my grand-daughter, kid.” –he says, amused at the outrage from his actual great-niece and nephew.

A small shadow flies overhead then. “You got _that_ right, old man.” –Eda’s voice chimes in as she flies in on her staff, landing just ahead of the group. The Witch’s fang glints as she smirks at Luz. “I’m almost _proud_ of you, Luz. Not even half an hour here, and you’re already in the middle of a near-death experience.”

“Edalyn!?” –Ford asks, completely befuddled.

Eda’s eyebrows rise. “Ford?”

“Marilyn?” –Stanley asks.

Eda nods at the other twin. “Hey there, handsome.”

Dipper and Mabel gasp at each other. “ _’Handsome’!?_ ”

Soos nods approvingly. Luz watches the chaos unfold, but the Gremloblin roars, indignant, snapping her out of it. “Uh, guys?”

Eda rolls her eyes, annoyed. “I _suppose_ I’ll have to save you puny mortals. I expect you make it worth my while, got it?” –she says, nodding at the elder twins. She doesn’t wait for a response; instead, she slams the butt of her staff against the soil, Owlbert’s wooden effigy spreading its wings as the Owl Lady prepares for combat.

“Wait, Eda! Isn’t it dangerous for you to use your magic?” –Luz asks, worriedly.

The Witch shrugs. “Trust me, kid. This won’t take much.”

Her sharpened nails make a perfect, glowing circle – probably the hardest part of spellcasting, at least for Luz, she wishes she’d brought a compass or even a _protractor_ along for her _isekai_ adventure – which she then pushes beyond the charging monsters, into a gnarled tree that immediately becomes engulfed in amber energy. The middle of its wide trunk morphs into Hooty’s face – never gets old – and the tree uproots itself, immediately swinging its powerful branches at the horde, killing dozens of goblins at a time. Eda then draws a circle on the soil in front of her, which sends waves of arcane energy that turn the ground into quicksand, swallowing the goblins that try to escape the carnage. It almost takes the Gremloblin, too, but it sprouts leathery wings, and soars above the battlefield, spitting plumes of flame at a grinning Eda, who merely conjures a bubble around herself. Eda collects the fire by twirling her staff around, and tosses it back in the shape of a golden owl.

Luz would’ve assumed that the monster would be fireproof, but it still howls in pain as it’s engulfed in the magical fire, crash-landing a dozen feet ahead of them. Its fur has been singed almost completely off, and nasty burn patches cover its leathery hide, but it still roars, defiant, making one final charge, Krueger-like claws extended for a killing blow. Eda lazily traces a circle, off to the side, and a spear of stone protrudes from the nearby ledge, piercing the Gremloblin’s side. The monster slides to a stop a couple feet away from Luz, its red eyes rapidly losing its glow.

The Hooty-Ent creaks hard enough to count as a roar, shaking itself clean of the goo of a couple hundred dead goblins. It then marches on into the forest, presumably eager to become a new topic for cryptid podcasts everywhere.

Luz feels kinda bad for the Gremloblin – for all its bluster, it couldn’t hold a candle to the Owl Lady’s magical might. Eda sighs. “What did I tell ya, kid? The monsters in the _human_ world are kinda _chumps._ ”

“You _could’ve_ at least let it think it had a chance, _geez._ ” –she says, approaching the slowly dying creature. It seems to lock gazes with her, almost like it feels her pity.

“No, Luz, don’t stare into his eyes!” –Ford tries to warn, but it’s too late. The Gremloblin’s eyes turn a bright yellow, and Luz’s vision fades to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Eda...knows who Ford is? What's going on there?
> 
> As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on Ko-fi, as Darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a buck to spare.
> 
> Until next time!


	4. Nightmares and (Multiversal) Daydreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luz gets a taste of the brand of fear magic she may or may not have to one day soon contend with.
> 
> Back at the real world, Ford and Eda regale Luz and the Pines family (and bore Stan) with a glimpse at their shared history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope the end of this sucky year is treating you well! This is probably the last chapter of the year, but I'll try to squeeze in another one before the end!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Luz opens her eyes to a frighteningly familiar sight: the 9th grade classroom she’s just broken free from.

The room is devoid of people; the desks and chairs are there, and so are the books, pencils, and pens, but she sits alone. She purses her lips – really, what _else_ is new. She tries to rise and get out, but her butt is glued to the seat, so she immediately falls back down, her chewed-up, eraser-less No. 2 HB pencil and ten-years-too-old, lid-less Casio calculator falling onto the floor with a _deafening_ clatter.

Luz winces, feeling eyes that aren’t there turn all around to glare at her. “ _Noceda!_ ” –a voice yells at her from the blackboard. No one’s there, but she could _swear_ she _feels_ a presence standing between the teacher’s desk and the decades-old, chalk-stained _pizarra._ She can’t tell who it is – it feels, simultaneously, like every teacher she’s ever had, the voice’s owner impossible to place yet intimately familiar. “Everything you do, I _swear._ Do you _have_ to be so loud?”

She finds herself shrinking, making herself less of a target. “It was an accident, I’m sorry!” –she tries to defend. She doesn’t intend to shout, but the words come out shrill and desperate. Her audience remains completely invisible, but she feels their cringing - their overt snickers and poorly concealed pity, their despective stares and disapproving, shaking heads. All around her, a chorus of voices grows – and though she can’t quite hear the words, her mind fills in the insults she’s heard already.

The young Witch apprentice closes her eyes and covers her ears. “This isn’t real.” –she tells herself. She tries to keep in mind the words of her school counselor – they could never afford a therapist – tries to keep in mind that most people don’t actually devote as much time to thinking about her as she fears they do. Gradually, the jeering fades away.

“Luz?” –Willow asks, concerned. She opens her eyes – she’s still in the classroom, just no longer alone. Willow sits to her right, frowning with worry. A niggling voice at the back of her head notices that she’s human, and dressed the part – her ears are rounded and she wears a cute floral sundress with a very ‘Mom fashion’-looking cardigan. “Hey, you look like you’re gonna be sick. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, should I get a bucket?” –Gus asks, to her left. He, too, has rounded ears, and wears a distinctly out-of-fashion sweater vest and baby blue shirt combo. She can’t quite see them, but Luz is 110% certain he’s wearing khakis. “You humans collect that stuff, right? For bird feeding? Do you have a pet bird, Luz?”

Luz frowns at the _non sequitur._ “ _Gross._ ” –she says, trying for an awkward chuckle. “What are you talking about, Gus? You should _know,_ you’re human, too.”

She blinks, and he isn’t anymore. He tilts his head – pointy ears and all – in confusion. “Uh...much as I’d like to be, I’m _really_ not.”

“ _Ugh,_ are you _blind_ as well as _stupid?_ ” –Amity says, suddenly sitting in front of her. Like Gus, she’s a Witch now, dressed in her Hexside best. Another blink, and the classroom is no longer human, nor is it empty. She’s in Hexside now, surrounded by Witches of all shapes and sizes, all staring at her as if she’s grown a third eye. Or rather, sneering at the lack of one, of _any_ sign of magic on her body.

“You don’t have to be so _mean_ about it, Amity.” –Willow chides. “Luz deserves to be here just as much as you and I...even if she _is_ a little different.”

“Does she now?” –she wonders, turning to face her. Luz’s heart breaks at the condescension that colors her expression. Any progress she thought she’d made with her seems to be _beyond_ erased, judging by the disgust in her golden eyes. “How does someone who _can’t perform magic_ belong in a magic school, Willow? How does she belong in our world _at all?_ ”

“I _can,_ too! You’ve seen it yourself!” –Luz retorts, defiant, even as tears start welling up and fall down her cheeks.

Amity scoffs. “Taking the Isles’ magic and wielding it as your own? You’re not a _real_ Witch. All you _really_ are is a _parasite._ ” –she spits out. “Or...do they not have those on the human world?” –she smirks, smug.

“No, they do, but I think it’s a _manga_ on Earth _._ ” –Gus mutters.

“A parasite _and_ a bad influence.” –Amity huffs, shaking her head in disbelief. “Willow standing up to me? _This_ little _runt_ daring to speak in my presence? _Disgraceful._ ”

Before she can try to defend herself, and her friends, the door to the classroom slams open. Principal Bump walks in, and Luz pales. Right behind him, an _extremely_ disconcerted-looking Camila Noceda steps into the classroom, taking in the _bizarre_ sight with a fearful grimace. “Oh, _no..._ ” –Luz mutters. “No, no, _no!_ ”

“ _Mija..._ dear Lord, where on _Earth_ have you been!?”

Bump shakes his head in disapproval. “Students, my apologies. It appears that young Miss Noceda is something of a _fugitive_ – much like her would-be mentor and _kidnapper,_ Edalyn Clawthorne. I am pleased to inform you that the Owl Lady has been apprehended by the Emperor’s Coven and summarily _executed,_ and that this little... _aberration_ will be _swiftly_ corrected.”

Luz _truly_ feels like she’s going to be sick now. Amity sighs, relieved. “ _Finally._ No more of _this_ nonsense.” –she says, turning her back on Luz.

Gus, too, looks away. “Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted.”

Desperate, Luz turns to Willow, reaching out with her hand, but the Witch’s glasses have grown opaque, covering her eyes as she looks down and ignores her plea. “Sorry, Luz. I don’t wanna get in any more trouble because of you.”

Camila grabs her daughter’s arm with an iron grip, as the classroom falls to a hellish void beneath, leaving them floating alone above the flames. She’s crying, furious and disappointed in equal measure. “How could you do this to me, _mija?_ How could you put your _own mother_ through hell?”

* * *

Luz awakes, _screaming,_ to a blinding headache and Eda’s concerned expression.

She bolts upright, her chest heaving with alarming frequency. It takes her a few moments to realize that she’s back at the Shack, surrounded by Eda and the Pines family. Judging by the orange light coming in through the windows, she’s been out for _hours._ “Wh-what? What’s going on?”

“Ah, kid...I’m really sorry.” –Eda says, wincing. “I thought the bastard was down.”

“You locked eyes with the dying Gremloblin, which psionically trapped you in a mindscape fabricated from your worst fears. A truly _unfortunate_ accident.” –Ford explains. “And an _extremely_ intense reaction, I must say.”

“Yeah, it’s usually kind of on the silly side.” –Dipper says, pursing his lips. “Spooky, for sure, but you realize pretty quick that the nightmare’s fake.” –he ponders. “N-not that there’s anything wrong you! You’re great! A-awesome, even!”

Stan snorts. “ _Smooth,_ kid.”

Luz groans, laying back down on the aging sofa she’s been lain upon. She’s _beyond_ clammy, her clothes soaked in rapidly cooling sweat. Mabel hands over her hoodie, which they must’ve removed so she wouldn’t overheat. Luz drapes it over her torso as a makeshift blanket, hugging herself underneath. “ _That_ sucked.” –she says, her voice hollow. “It just _figures_ I’d get...what, _fear allergies?_ ”

“It’s difficult to say.” –Ford rubs his chin. “Gremloblins are very rare, and reclusive at that. We do, as a family, have _some_ first-hand experience with their illusory defense systems, but perhaps our _extensive_ exposure to the powers of a dream demon as strong as Bill Cipher has granted us some measure of resilience you unfortunately lack.” –he theorizes.

“What Sixer here _means_ to say is that you shouldn’t blame yourself.” –Stan says, shaking his head at his twin.

“Ah! Er...yes, indeed.” –he says, mildly embarrassed. “Just like viruses, bacteria, and other such afflictions, supernatural maladies affect different bodies in different ways. Rest assured, young lady, that you are not to blame.”

“ _I_ am.” –Eda says, begrudging. “I was too busy showing off to realize the monster wanted to take you down with it. Sorry, kiddo.”

Luz manages a small smile. “It’s ok, Eda. Like I said, I’m...getting used to this stuff pretty quickly. I’m pretty good at getting in trouble.”

“I’m thinkin’ that says more about my inability to keep you safe than it does your talent for finding danger.” –Eda admits. “...you sure you’re ok, Luz?”

She purses her lips. “Yeah...I, uh...I will be, Eda.”

The Owl Lady sighs. “I’ll...try to do a better job of it. Wouldn’t do to send you back home in pieces, huh?”

Luz chuckles, finding the dark humor oddly comforting. Ford crosses his arms, examining the magical duo. “I must say, Edalyn...I am _incredibly_ curious about the story between you two, and what could’ve brought you here. How you could even _be_ here, considering what an _ordeal_ it was for me to return to my home dimension.” –he says, just a _little_ bit begrudging.

“Hate to break it to ya, Ford, but I come here all the time.” –Eda shrugs, grabbing the key from her Mane of Holding – Luz’s unofficial name for the, like, _pocket dimension_ the Witch stores things in – and throws it at Ford, who examines it closely. “If I’d known, I would’ve let you through, no problem.”

“You didn’t think I might like to know you’ve apparently been in contact with my _twin brother_ for gods know how long?” –he raises an eyebrow.

Eda snaps her fingers. “ _That’s_ what this is! Frankly, I can’t believe I only just now figured it out.” –she mutters. “Sorry, Ford, I thought you were the same person.”

The old scientist sputters. “Same _person?_ Edalyn, I understand we are _physically_ identical, but our personalities could not be further apart!”

“Same person, _different dimension._ ” –she waves her hand dismissively. “You, better than anyone here, knows there’s a functionally infinite number of dimensions, most of which contain doppelgängers – I just figured you and Stan were alternate versions of each other. One I befriended and went on universe-hopping adventures with, the other I married and swindled out of most of his valuables.” –she shrugs.

“Aren’t doppelgängers more of a...y’know, cryptid thing?” –Luz asks, frowning.

“Yes, and no. There do, in fact, exist shapeshifters that have seldom been mistaken for _true_ doppelgängers, but the genuine article – a distinct but identifiable version of the same person, often physically identical – is _extremely_ rare. Interdimensional travel is _prohibitive_ for most beings; it requires power and accuracy on a level only achievable by the brightest minds and most _powerful_ entities in the multiverse.” –he explains. “There are shortcuts and places where the dimensions overlap – highly unstable rifts where realities bleed into one another, which is where the mirage of a true doppelgänger most often comes from – but travelling this way is _dangerous,_ and most importantly, _slow._ ”

“ _That’s_ why you had to build the portal. Why it took so long for you to come back.” –Dipper surmises.

“Putting my pride aside for _just_ a moment...if Stanley hadn’t rebuilt and opened the portal, I’d still be a _long_ way from home.” –Ford admits. “ _Years,_ at the very least. A _decade,_ more realistically.”

“You’re _welcome,_ Poindexter.” –Stan huffs, though the venom isn’t really there. Ford bumps shoulders with him, just a _tad_ too aggressively.

“Kinda _wild_ to imagine what your lives would be like if Eda had known you wanted to come back here, huh?” –Mabel points out.

“Frankly, I’d rather not.” –Ford says. “As hard as all those years were, there were certainly more than a few positives to my situation. I was able to explore dozens of different universes, and met hundreds of _fascinating_ individuals – present company included.”

Luz narrows her eyes. “So, wait...the Boiling Isles are on another _dimension?_ I just thought I’d gone to nondenominational H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks.”

“The Hell you’re thinking of is a _very_ different place, though I can see why you’d be confused.” –Ford says. “The aesthetic of the Boiling Isles is quite evocative of most demonic environments and architecture. But the realm the Isles belong to is something of an... _in-between_ space.”

“It would’ve been _ages_ before my time, but Ford here thinks the Isles used to be a fully realized universe, shattered and cobbled back together into a nexus point within the Void between dimensions.” –Eda explains, though she sounds a bit tired of the topic already.

“Universes are created and destroyed quite often.” –Ford says, sober. He produces a small holographic projector, which shows a humanoid form made of nothing but void and stars holding a universe between its palms, as if clay to be molded. “Much like a garden, the cosmic beings from which Creation flows spawn, nurture, and _trim_ dimensions according to their unknown designs – or more accurately, their whims and desires. Our choices, much like branches from trees, generate alternate dimensions that these _caretakers_ may choose to preserve and observe, or _snuff out_ at their leisure.”

Dipper rubs his chin. “And you think the Boiling Isles were... _trimmed,_ then.”

“That, or shattered from within.” –he says, darkly. The universe between the cosmic creature’s palms explodes, then slowly draws back together. “Either naturally or by design, it congealed back together into a facsimile of its former self; however, it now drew bits and pieces from other shattered realms, cosmic flotsam that added onto the reborn world, transcending its origins and creating something entirely new.”

“It’s the multiverse’s _landfill._ ” –Eda says, sarcastically. Once again, Ford sputters, indignant. “Ford makes it sound all _poetic-like,_ but the Isles are a cobbled-together mess of broken worlds, randomly connecting and disconnecting portals to other dimensions, and free-flowing wild magic. Plenty _beautiful_ without all that _philosophical_ crud, if you ask me.”

“A-at any rate, that is only a theory. The Boiling Isles’ recorded history doesn’t go far enough back to confirm it, and I was unable to draw a more solid conclusion in the time I spent there.” –he chuckles, somewhat bitter. “To think, my first theory was that the Isles were Bill’s original home!” –he shakes his head, amused.

Dipper and Mabel share an oddly spooked glance. Stan rolls his eyes and groans. “Ugh, _yawn!_ How did you take a _visiting Witch_ from _another dimension_ and her _human apprentice_ and make it _boring,_ Poindexter?” –he chides, then grabs the teenaged twins by the shoulders. “How’s about we tell a _fun-ner_ story, kids? Who wants to hear about me, myself, and my ex-wife?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on ko-fi.com/darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a buck to spare.
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on Ko-fi, as Darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a coffee's worth of money to spare.
> 
> Until next time!


End file.
